


Draw Me Another One

by Deisderium



Series: An Appreciation for Art [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A Lot of Firsts Actually, A Mere Frisson of Plot, Artist Steve Rogers, But Not Really That Much Of It, Dirty Comics of the 1930s, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Hmmm That Drawing May Resemble His Favorite Model, Is Kind of Bossy, M/M, Perhaps There Are Some Feelings In This Sexytimes Tonight, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Smut, Steve Rogers Has a Good Imagination, That Filthy Filthy Drawing, Tijuana Bibles, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 04:49:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deisderium/pseuds/Deisderium
Summary: Steve's been earning money drawing dirty comics. Bucky finds out. One of the drawings looks a lot like him.(Note: Steve is nervous about period-typical homophobia, but does not actually experience it in this fic.)





	Draw Me Another One

 

Steve dipped his pen in India ink, knocked the excess liquid back into the inkwell, and set the nib to paper. This was the fiddly part, turning the masses of pencil lines into crisp black ink. He pressed his bare feet against the smooth wooden floor and made a couple of test lines on a scrap sheet of paper. He needed to get this wrapped up and one of his more innocuous commissions on the drawing table before Bucky got home from work. 

The sign painting and advertisement commissions were great, but for nearly two years now, Steve had earned the bulk of his money drawing blue comics for an exceedingly disreputable publisher. Who could have guessed that sexy art paid so well, or that Steve would have a talent for it? It was funny given Steve's lack of experience. He'd never even kissed anyone.

He did have a lot of experience watching, though, and it turned out he was pretty good at extrapolating. Their neighborhood was close to the docks, and he'd seen more jerkoffs and suck jobs in nearby alleys than he could count on both hands. It was a small apartment, too, and he'd seen more of Bucky necking with various girls that was good for anyone involved. He could visualize what could come next only all too well. Bucky hadn't asked where his money was coming from, or when he had, Steve had been able to vaguely say "commissions" and leave it at that. It was all right though; it was only four o'clock. Steve had at least an hour and a half to wrap up this page before the factory let out and Bucky came home. He'd switch to working on the much-staider soap advertisement once he finished inking this.

This one in particular he didn't want to have to explain. Most of the comics he drew were guys and gals, but this one was a queer one. He pressed down as he inked the underside of one guy's pectoral muscle, the tines of the nib spreading to lay down a thicker line. The lovingly-depicted chest was based off Steve's favorite model. 

Steve had already inked the fella on the left, who was bending over to lick the chest of the guy he'd just inked. The next panel was where things really got interesting, with both cocks out--

He heard a key in the lock and froze. He had to hide the drawing, but fuck, the ink was still wet. If he smeared it, he'd have to redo the panel or even the whole page, and that was hours wasted. Nope. He had to act casual. Maybe if he didn't pay any attention to it, Bucky wouldn't either. He scooted the page to the far corner of the table and slid the soap advertisement into place. But that one was a painting, and all he had out was his pen and ink--

"Hey, Steve, I'm home," Bucky called.

Steve swiveled around and tried for casual. "Hey, Buck. Everything all right? I didn't expect you home so soon." Ugh, that was terrible. His voice was pitched too high.

"Yeah." Bucky set his hat on the hat stand by the door and hung up his jacket. "The foreman's wife is having a baby and he got called away. Wasn't anyone else to keep the place open, so…" He walked into the kitchen and drew a glass of water, drinking it with one hand while the other undid the buttons at the top of his shirt. "You been keeping busy?"

"Got a couple jobs I'm working on, yeah," Steve muttered. "Anything you want to do with your extra time? We could go out." This was purely a delaying tactic; if they went somewhere, the ink would have time to dry, and Steve would be able to hide the page. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the penciled cocks in the next panel. He wished he'd drawn them less enthusiastically.

"Eh, I just got home. Don't try to kick me out already." Bucky smiled, warm and wide, and walked over to the table to look at the soap advertisement.

 _Goddammit, Bucky._ "Well then, what do you want for dinner?" Steve sidled over toward the kitchen, hoping to divert Bucky's attention from the pornography on the corner of the table.

Too late.

"Steve," Bucky said. "Steve, what the hell…?"

Steve froze by the icebox. There was a moment where he could have made a joke, could have said something--although what, he had no idea--to divert the conversation, but as the seconds ticked by, that moment slipped away. But Steve had never backed away from a fight, even with Bucky. He turned back. Bucky was staring down at the table like the paper might rise up and bite him.

"It's a commission. I'm getting paid for it. That's all." Steve firmed his voice, like there was nothing unusual about his drawing a guy with another guy's dick in his mouth, like his stomach wasn't a cold pit of dread. Bucky picked up the drawing, slowly. "Careful," Steve said. "The ink's still wet."

"I can see that," Bucky said, some unfamiliar note in his voice. He didn't seem like he was about to punch Steve, or take his stuff and move out because his roommate was drawing queer eight-pagers. Then again, it was still early. Maybe all of that would be on the menu when he'd had more time to take it in. "How long--is this the first one you've done?"

"No. Been doing it about two years."

"Are they all…" Bucky trailed off, still looking at the drawings.

Steve cleared his throat. "Most of 'em are men and women. Some of 'em are like that." Steve's face felt like he'd been burned, he was blushing so hard. Not that Bucky would know--he hadn't looked at Steve since he'd seen the paper. Maybe he never would again. Maybe they'd stay here, but instead of Steve living with his best friend, he'd live with someone who was disgusted by him, someone who couldn't even look at him.

"You, um." Bucky's voice dropped half an octave. It made Steve shiver, even though it really, really shouldn't. "You got a real good imagination, Steve, unless there's something else you haven't been telling me." He finally set the page back on the table and looked at Steve.

Steve felt altogether too seen, translucent and exposed. Bucky could see every one of his desires, because he'd been stupid enough to commit them to paper, while he didn't know if he had finally done the one thing that could make Bucky get rid of him. The constant illness and starting fights and always forgetting not to leave his shoes in the middle of the floor were one thing; maybe drawing jack-off comics was another, especially queer ones.

"No, Buck." He swallowed hard. His throat felt close, like the beginning of an asthma attack, but it wasn't. "I've just been making it up."

Bucky took a few steps closer. "I gotta ask, though. Does that one guy kind of look like me?"

Fuck. Steve was in a world of trouble. "Maybe? You're the person I draw the most, so…" Steve shrugged, hoping to imply that any resemblance was just coincidence. Too bad he'd never been any good at lying, least of all to Bucky.

Bucky walked into the kitchen. Steve's shoulder blades dug into the icebox door. Bucky stopped just out of arm's reach, and his eyes pinned Steve in place. "I think he looks like me," Bucky said. "So I guess my next question is, does the other guy look like you?"

"No, of course not." Steve couldn't meet Bucky's eyes. His gaze dropped instead to the open buttons at the neck of Bucky's shirt, the dark chest hairs curling up. It was true; the other man didn't look like Steve, but only because no one would ever want to buy it if he drew someone like himself: skinny, crooked, sick. No, those drawings were in his other sketchbook, the one he kept hidden between the back of the bookshelf and the wall.

"Hmmm." Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets, and Steve made himself look up. Bucky was still staring at him, pupils wide pools of black in thin rings of gray. "In that case…draw me another one?"

Suddenly the icebox at his back was the only thing holding Steve up. He couldn't have heard right. He tilted his head so his good ear was angled toward Bucky. "What?"

Bucky licked his lips. "Draw me another one. With you in it too, not just me."

Steve couldn't look away from Bucky's mouth. "But you don't--"

"You ain't the only one who's thought about it, Steve."

Steve felt like someone had jammed a live wire into his gut. He was hot all over, every inch of his skin incinerating. His hand came up like he was reaching out before he stopped himself, but it was enough to bring Bucky a half-step closer. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. Steve wondered if his eyes looked as wild as Bucky's did, his face as flushed. Steve reached out again, and this time he let himself. He touched Bucky's face, traced a line from the corner of his eyebrow down over his stubbled jaw, down his neck, to where Bucky's pulse jumped against his fingers. He let his fingers sink lower, to the notch of Bucky's collarbone, then through the hair peeking out between his shirt buttons.

Bucky made a sound, a soft breathy gasp that went straight to Steve's dick, which had been paying attention since Bucky said he thought about it too. Steve curled his fingers around Bucky's shirt collar and pulled, closing the distance between them. His heart thrummed as Bucky got closer. This was actually happening. The drag of his fingertips over Bucky's skin was real.

Bucky slid his hands around Steve's neck to the base of his skull, tilting his head up so Bucky could lean down and kiss him. Bucky swiped his tongue across Steve's lower lip, and Steve chased it back into Bucky's mouth, because he had never done this, but oh, he had thought about it. He moved his hands to the muscled planes of Bucky's back, pulling, trying to flatten himself against him.

"Jesus," Bucky said, breath ragged against Steve's mouth, and that only cranked him up worse. He leaned his forehead against Bucky's.

"Is this all right?" he made himself ask, because even with want pulsing like a spike in his gut he had to be sure.

"Better than all right." Bucky pulled back a little further so he could search Steve's face. Whatever he saw there must have been okay, because he laid his right hand alongside Steve's cheek, delicately, like Steve was precious. Steve turned into the touch and sucked Bucky's thumb into his mouth. This time the noise Bucky made was closer to a groan than a gasp. Steve couldn't look away from Bucky's face; his dilated pupils, his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

Steve moved his hand in between them so he could get to the buttons on Bucky's shirt. He undid them one by one until Bucky's shirt was hanging open and Steve could ruck up his undershirt. He ran his hand up Bucky's belly, over the arches of his ribs, so he could park his thumb over his nipple and feel it harden as he rubbed.

"Oh god, _Steve_ ," Bucky said. Steve licked his thumb in response. Bucky dragged it out of his mouth and moved his hands lower, down Steve's shoulders, along his side, pulling his shirt out of the waistband of his pants. Steve shuddered as Bucky unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of the loops slowly. The buckle clanked against the kitchen tile as he tossed it away to be immediately forgotten.

Steve pulled Bucky's shirt off him and sent it to join the belt. He raked his hands up Bucky's chest and tugged his undershirt off too. Then he was confronted with an expanse of skin; nothing he hadn't seen before, but now he got to touch it. The only problem was deciding what to touch first; but when he thought about it, as best he could with his brain as well as his skin on fire, it was easy to tell what Bucky had liked so far.

Steve bent down to put his mouth on Bucky's nipple, and Bucky arched into him, and _fuck_ , his hips pressed against Steve, and he was as hard as Steve was. Steve rocked against him, and Bucky closed his teeth on his own wrist, but that was only to keep his moan from leaving the walls, not to keep it from Steve. Steve bit him gently, and Bucky said, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck_ , Steve," which was highly encouraging. Steve licked his other nipple and slid his hands down until he found the jut of his hipbones.

Bucky moved his hands to the button of Steve's trousers and leaned back in to kiss him again. Steve bit his lower lip, sucked it into his mouth. Bucky's hands clenched on Steve's skin. Steve pressed his hand flat over Bucky's fly and palmed his cock through the layers of fabric. Bucky's hips jerked. Steve closed his eyes and pressed back against him.

"Couch?" Bucky said, his voice low and rough.

"Couch," Steve breathed. They stumbled together, trying to touch and walk at the same time. Steve got Bucky's fly undone, and shoved Bucky back onto the couch and straddled him. Bucky threw his hands behind his head and looked up at him, chest heaving, lips red. Steve leaned down and bracketed him with his arms. Bucky rocked up and kissed him again, urgent and sloppy. Steve slid back so he could trail down Bucky's torso with his mouth, pausing at his nipples, at his navel, at the freckle just to the left of his hipbone. He tugged Bucky's open trousers down, and there was his cock, right there, hard because of Steve. His heart was trying to pound out of his chest. 

Steve glanced up at Bucky, who was looking at him like he was the last slice of pie at the automat. Steve smiled at him, and wrapped his fingers around his dick. His skin was smooth, and hot against Steve's hand. Steve moved his hand experimentally, and Bucky's hips rocked up and he made an inchoate sound. Steve had never been so hard in his life. 

"Wait, Steve." Steve froze. Bucky bit his lip. "No," he said. "Don't stop. I just mean--let me take care of you first." Aw, no. Bucky was trying to be sweet because Steve had never done this before. 

Steve tightened his fingers and tugged gently. Bucky groaned. "You can worry about that in a minute. Let me. I want to." 

"If you--if you're sure." Bucky leaned back, eyes greedy on Steve's face. Well, he'd just have to let Bucky know how sure he was. 

He leaned forward to he could lick the tip of Bucky's dick. Bucky was already wet, and the taste was salty and bitter. He ran his tongue down the length of him, then sucked. "Steve," Bucky gasped. It took a few tries for Steve to work out the logistics of it, but Bucky didn't seem to mind, and then Steve found a rhythm. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna--" Bucky pulled at Steve's shoulders, but Steve ignored him. Bucky's cock pulsed, and when he came, Steve swallowed and held him in his mouth until he started to soften. 

"God damn, Steve." This time when Bucky tugged at him, he slid up until he was resting on him. Bucky's heart was pounding as hard as his own, and when he spoke, Steve felt his voice rumble in his chest. "You don't do anything by halves, do you?" 

"Don't see why I should start now," Steve agreed. Bucky slid his hands up under Steve's shirt and pulled it off. 

Steve wished for a second that he was different; stronger, maybe, or bigger, but Bucky said, "Look at you. Jesus," and his voice was low and thick, so maybe it didn't matter. Bucky sat up to kiss Steve, his hands moving up and down Steve's back. Then he flipped them over so that Steve was pinned beneath him, and Steve couldn't help arching up against him. His whole body felt like quicksilver, molten and racing. 

Bucky held his wrists together with one hand and stroked the other over Steve's torso. He pinched Steve's nipple, not hard, but enough to send a shock through him, then smoothed it flat with his thumb. Half the nerves in his body seemed to be centered there; the other half were in his dick, and directly connected. "Please," he said. "Please, Buck." 

Bucky shot him a grin. He kissed him, then moved down, sucking on Steve's other nipple until it was dark and glistening with spit. Steve thought if he stayed there long enough, he might could come from that alone. Then Bucky was pulling Steve's waistband down, shucking his trousers and boxers by the couch. 

He wrapped his hand around Steve's dick, and Steve threw his head back, rocked forward into the touch. "Fuck, Steve, you're beautiful," Bucky said, and Steve couldn't even summon a retort, not when he was touching him like this. 

Bucky tugged him so he was sitting upright and knelt between his thighs. Steve splayed his legs wide, and Bucky drew in a shaky breath. One hand was still at Steve's prick, spreading precome down the length of him, fuck, and the other was kneading at his hipbone while Bucky sucked and licked his way across Steve's chest. "Bucky," he said, and his voice sounded broken. Nothing had ever felt this good.

But no, that was wrong, because then Bucky licked down over the head of his cock, and that, _that_ was the best thing he'd ever felt. Bucky looked up at him, eyes intent, mouth stretched around Steve. His body felt like one long line of desire, taut and straining. Bucky sucked him into his mouth, and one hand was at his nipple, but the other came up to cup his balls, and-- "Buck, I'm coming," Steve said, and Bucky's eyes crinkled like he'd have been smiling if his mouth wasn't full, and Steve tried to muffle the sound he made as he came. "Jesus," Steve said when he could talk again. 

"Nope, just me." Bucky stood up and kicked off his shoes, then pushed his trousers and underwear all the way off. He sat on the couch next to Steve and leaned into him so that they both sort of fell into lying down. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and held onto him tight. So much of their skin was touching. Maybe he'd been wrong; this wasn't as sharp and focused a pleasure, but it was warm and easy and good and definitely another contender for the best feeling. 

"Was that all right?" Steve asked.

Bucky snorted and tilted his head a little so he could meet Steve's gaze. "You fishing for compliments?" 

Steve thought about it. "Yeah, I guess I am." 

Bucky kissed his hair. "I had a fucking fantastic time. You ever need a model for your dirty drawings, you've got one." 

"You don't mind about that?" Now Steve really was fishing, for reassurance, but he'd been so afraid that everything would go terrifyingly wrong up until it went terrifyingly right. 

"You're careful, right? The only thing I'd mind is if you got yourself arrested." Bucky's hand was moving lazily up and down Steve's spine. Steve wanted to stretch like a cat. Maybe learn how to purr. "I liked it, in case you couldn't tell. Got me going, thinking about you drawing that. I wasn't kidding--I want you to draw me one with you and me in it for real."

Steve tucked his head down to address Bucky's chest. "I might've already drawn some of those."

"You gonna show me, or what?" 

Steve looked back up at him and gave him his widest eyes. "I dunno, Buck. What if I got some of the details wrong? I might need more experience to get it right."

"Oh my god, Rogers, you're a menace." Bucky slid his hands down Steve's back. "Any time you want to do some research, you just let me know."

 Steve bit on Bucky's chest and smiled against his skin at his indrawn breath. "Yeah. You know, I think I'll do that."  

**Author's Note:**

> There was a [brisk trade in dirty comics](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tijuana_bible) from the 1920s through about WW2. They varied wildly in quality and most of them parodied [newspaper](https://www.antiquesnavigator.com/d-2500054/wwii-tijuana-bible-naughty-comic-risque-flash-gordon-in-red-hot.html) [comic strips](https://d1466nnw0ex81e.cloudfront.net/n_iv/600/2916500.jpg), but some of them featured [original characters](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/16/9a/0f/169a0fc8702f5644810b83ed36e3bf58--bible-comics.jpg) or even [real people](https://rspull-supervert.netdna-ssl.com/images/bibliographic_bunker/tijuana_bibles/lou-gehrig.tijuana-bible.jpg). So basically Steve is working on the Plot What Plot tag before the internet, and I guess that makes this fic more meta than I originally thought.


End file.
